Chapter 1: The Obsidian Threat The afternoon sun streamed through the kitchen window, illuminating dust ,toes dancing in the golden light. Eleven-year old Alex hummed along to a catchy tune playing on the radio, meticulously arranging his collection of polished stones on the kitchen table. Each-stone, a smooth river pebble, a jagged piece of obsidian, a pearly grey seashell held a special place in his heart, a tangible link to the quiet, predictable rhythm of his life. His mom, humming a counterpoint to the radio, bustled around, preparing dinner, the familiar scent of rosemary and garlic filling the air. His dad, a history professor with a perpetually rumpled tweed jacket, was engrossed in a stack of books in his study, occasionally muttering to himself in what Alex recognized as the happy murmurings of a man immersed in his work, it was, in short, a perfectly ordinary Tuesday. Dinner was a comfortable affair, punctuated by the clinking of forks and the easy laughter that flowed between family members. Alex recounted a humorous anecdote about a particularly stubborn bully at school, his parents offering their usual mix of encouragement and gentle admonishment. They talked about the upcoming school fair, Alex’s upcoming science project, and the planned family hike scheduled for the weekend. The world outside their cozy kitchen seemed far away, a distant hum of traffic and distant voices lost in the warmth of their family circle. The only hint of unease came from a brief news report flickering on the television, something about a string of strange disappearance and unexplained disturbances. Alex dismissed it as another one of those reports they would likely talk about at school tomorrow. As darkness fell, Alex helped his dad clear the table, their familiar routine a comforting ritual. Then, he retreated to his room, a small haven filled with books, maps, and the ever growing collection of stones. He was lost in the pages of a fantasy novel, his imagination transported to a world of dragons and daring adventures when he heard a sound, a sharp crack that sliced through the peaceful silence of the night. It wasn’t the sound of wind rustling through trees, nor the creak of an old house settling; this was different, sharp, metallic. It was the sound of glass shattering. A chill snaked down Alex’s spine, a cold did dread tightening in his chest. He cautiously crept towards his window, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. What he saw outside stole the breath from his lungs. Three figures, cloaked shadowy, moved with an unnerving grace across his lawn, their faces obscured by the deep hoods that concealed their identities. Their movements were fluid, silent, predatory. They were like wraiths, moving with unnatural speed and purpose. Alex watched, paralyzed by fear, as they moved towards his house, their faces the sound of their footsteps muffled but somehow amplified in the night’s stillness. Then, the attack began. The sound of shattering glass intensified; it wasn’t just his window. Sherie’s and cries rent the night air, the familiar sounds of his home replaced by a cacophony of violence and chaos. Alex saw his parents struggle against the intruders, their shouts for help swallowed by the sudden darkness that seemed to descend upon the house. The figures were fast, relentless, their movements suggesting a precision honed by countless hours of practice. They were not simply thieves; they were soothing far more sinister. Driven by primal instinct, Alex scrambled out of his room, his heart hammering in his chest like a trapped bird. He ran towards the sound of his parents’ pleas for help, his small form a blur in the dim light. He burst into the living room, just in time to see one of the cloaked figures raise a strange, obsidian weapon- a blade that plunged with an eerie, inner light-towards his mother. Time seemed to slow, the world narrowing to a focus on gleaming weapon and the terrified look on his mother’s face. Then, something incredible happened. Something that defied all logic and reason. A surge of energy, raw and potent, erupted from Alex’s body. It wasn’t a physical force; it was something more profound, a wave of pure energy that seemed to emanate from the very core of his being. It shot out, striking the cloaked figures with an unseen force, throwing him back across the room with the force of a battering ram. The obsidian weapon clattered to the floor, the eerie glow fading. The other figures paused, their movements abruptly stilled, as if struck by surprise. The air crackled with an unseen energy. Alex stood frozen, his body trembling, completely unaware of what had happened. He had felt a surge of power, an intense energy flowing through him; an energy he’d never known he possessed. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. The figure, reacting to the sudden display of power, quickly regrouped. They didn’t retreat; they attacked. They launched themselves at Alex and his parents.